ok the first bit is mainly just 'premonition' with alterations, but i wanted to develop it cos i like this theory of them gettin together! i have many a theory...

enjoy!

oh and there will be more of this at some point. there may even be kissing involved sometime in the near future!!

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Zoë sat up gasping for air, glancing frantically around her into the darkness, her mind dizzy and disorientated. Confusion clouded her for another moment until her eyes became accustomed to the dim artificial light of her bunk. Still, her heart was beating twice its usual pace. What had she been dreaming of?

It was odd. She never had nightmares, even after all that she had witnessed in the war. Yet, there was still that horrible sinking feeling in her stomach like she had lost something really precious. The more she tried to grasp at her recollections, however, the more they seemed not to be there, like sand running between her fingers.

Baby, no! Baby, come on. You gotta go. Come on.

Zoë shrugged the feeling off and somewhat stiffly lay back down in bed. It had been a week since she had moved onto the ship and she still hadn’t gotten used to it. It was growing on her though, not that she would admit it to Mal.

~

Zoë strode hastily down to the cargo bay. She was never late up, never. What had gotten into her? The silhouette of Mal was standing, hands on hips, on the edge of the ramp, gazing at the bustling business of the late morning docks.

Zoë squinted in the harsh sunlight as she approached him, her brow becoming damp with perspiration. She silently came to stand next to the Captain.

“Decide to get up then?” Mal asked without turning to her.

“Sir, I… Who is that?” She peered through the sunlight at the man who was strolling casually towards them.

“That is potentially our pilot!” Mal explained.

Zoë kicked herself as she strained to see through the searing morning sun. Of course, she had known he was coming today. What had his name been?

“Tanaka raved about this guy,” Mal continued, smugly.

He looked short. Golden hair shone in messy spikes on the top of his head and he wore a loose Hawaiian shirt. He climbed the ramp, his bright blue eyes flickering over the ship and then over the both of them. Finally, he stopped in front of them, holding a pale hand out to Mal who took it readily. “I’m Wash. Hear you’re looking for a pilot.”

“This is Serenity,” Mal indicated to the ship behind them, “I’m the Captain, Malcolm Reynolds and this is Zoë Alleyne, my first mate.”

Wash stuck out his hand to Zoë, but she didn’t take it. She had been frozen since meeting his watery blue eyes. She was unsure what it was though. Had she met him before? It was that unsettling feeling of déjà vu when you can’t quite place something that you sure you remember happening.

It bothered her…

~

That night Wash dreamt about her. It was strange because he rarely dreamed at all, and when he did they were usually after thinking a lot about a certain thing. Zoë he honestly hadn’t given that much thought and yet the dream had been so vivid…

He had liked the ship, he really had. It may be nothing more than a load of old parts dumped by the Alliance long ago, but he liked that about it. He was fed up of the highly polished ships that raced around the sky ten hundred times the speed of the light but broke down every ten seconds with over complicated, ill-made excuses for an engine. Plus, Wash wanted some excitement and felt sure Malcolm Reynolds ran the kind of operation that would give him that in double servings.

So you see, he took the job purely due to professional motives. The dream had nothing to do with it. Not even a tiny bit…

~

Less than a week later Wash reclined leisurely at Serenity’s controls. She was sailing like a dream. He was pretty sure he’d even seen surprise in Zoë’s eyes when they had taken off the first time. Not that he liked to brag, but he was certain there was no one who could make this ship run like he did. Or any ship for that matter…

“We on course?”

Wash span around. Zoë was stood in the doorway and he gave her an odd look. This was surely the first time she had spoken to him unprovoked. Could she possibly be starting a casual conversation?

“Mal wants to know,” she said, an explanation for his look of interest.

“Of course we are. Know much about flying?” He asked out of pure curiosity. He wasn’t in the habit of trying to make friends with people as they usually just came to him, but he felt there was more to this girl than met the eye.

“A fair bit. I was born vesselside.” She remained in the doorway, non-committal to staying or leaving.

“Shiny! Where I was born, couldn’t even tell there was a sky, there was that much pollution. Still, found my way to the black eventually.”

The was a slightly awkward pause before Zoë turned abruptly to leave. Wash called after her. “When does it leave?”

She glanced back over her shoulder, a questioning look on her face.

“The façade. The hard, soldier exterior. When does it leave so we can have a proper conversation?” He waited apprehensively for her reply that came suitably calculated but with a sparkle in her deep brown eyes.

“When you lose the gorram moustache.”

While being proud of his courage, she left Wash slightly perplexed. What was wrong with his moustache??

To be continued... (whether you like it or not...)